At the low point left of center, one crosses the rim of the gorge with
a drop here of some 500 meters. The drama of the sudden opening up
of the ancient river landscape is beyond compare. I of course
could be wrong, but from my Earth-pilgrim's point of view, one needs
to maintain contact with the surface of the land. One hears the sound of
the wind and gravel underfoot, perhaps even smells something of the distant
sea. After all, once you cross that rim in the distance, there is nothing
between you an the Pacific Ocean almost a thousand kilometers away.
A car, even one that ran on water or sunlight, because of its self-isolating
accelerated mode of movement, would turn the drama, in my view, into
just another cheap film in fast forward.

On the road in the Northwest of America.

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